


Let's Create Something Extraordinary Out of Ordinary

by Iwritefanfictionnottragedies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Art Soulmate AU, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate AU, Writer! Castiel, artist! dean, doctor who - Freeform, so. much. fluff.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwritefanfictionnottragedies/pseuds/Iwritefanfictionnottragedies
Summary: Castiel always loved his soulmate’s art. He himself couldn’t draw to save his life, but Dean, Dean made the most exquisite drawings that he had ever seen. Dear god, was he talented.





	Let's Create Something Extraordinary Out of Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so like, this is one of those soulmate AU's that everybody knows but like can't remember. Based on this post.
> 
> http://destieldrabblesdaily.tumblr.com/post/141503484294/princess-tuna-let-gavin-free-soulmate-au
> 
> This is for my 500 follower celebration on TUMBLR. Follow me @fractured-boxofstars for my main blog, and @i-writefanficnottragedies for my fanfic blog.

Castiel always loved his soulmate’s art. He himself couldn’t draw to save his life, but Dean, Dean made the most exquisite drawings that he had ever seen. Dear god, was he talented. 

Before he had met Dean, Castiel would spend hours and hours staring at the tiny lines of ink grow into something beautiful. He liked to guess what it would be next – a flower? A tree? An animal? A landscape?

Castiel could rarely guess correctly – he never was good at predicting things, but that was okay with him. He still had the beautiful art all over him.

Many people were jealous – some ended up with grocery lists on their arms, or crude drawings of who knows what, but not Castiel. Castiel got to walk around proudly with constellations or peonies or mountains or whatever gorgeous thing that his soulmate had decided to draw that day on his arm. Sometimes, when his soulmate was feeling extra bored, Castiel would end up with vines entangling up his legs.

The thing that his soulmate loved to draw most were galaxies. He went 3 weeks with seeing different galaxies appear on his arms each day before he finally took a black marker and wrote out –  _Why do you like galaxies so much?_

He was in his dorm, flopped across his navy sheets whenever he wrote it. The room was tiny, with two twin beds, two desks, a mini-fridge and a microwave crammed into it, barely fitting the small living space.

Now, this wasn’t the first time that Castiel had sent a message to his soulmate – he had sent others before, although they mostly consisted of  _“Your art is beautiful”_  or something like that. Castiel hadn’t even worked up the courage to ask them their name!

He couldn’t remember when the art first started appearing – what, was he 11? 12? It was 6th grade that he first started seeing the inked beauty, so he was 12, then.

Anyway, back to his question. Castiel’s soulmate’s response was quick – maybe 3 minutes had passed before a scribbled response had appeared.  _I have a lot of freckles on my arms, it said, and I like connecting them and making constellations._

_Cool!_  He returned, blushing because _ohmygod my soulmate has freckles and they make constellations that is so freaking cute ohmygod._  Castiel felt like a teenage girl (although he was 19, and a very, very mature adult) as he watched his reply slowly formed on his skin.  _Also, like, Star Wars is dope._

_Oh, I’ve never watched Star Wars._

The response was quicker this time –  _You’ve never seen Star Wars? Okay, I’m definitely showing it to you whenever we meet._

_How can you be so sure that we’ll meet? It’s so rare for people to find their soulmates._  A twinge of sadness writhed in his stomach, knowing that he probably wouldn’t ever meet his true love, his beautiful artist.

_Because we’re different. You’re different. I dunno, I just have faith in this sort of crap. That’s it._

_Oh, don’t tell me you’re a romantic sap_. Castiel teased, feeling his heart flutter with joy that whoever was writing to him believed that they had a chance. Maybe he was the romantic here.

_Only for you._

Now Castiel was pink with blush.

_But you don’t even know me! You don’t even know my name…_  He protested.

_Well, my name is Dean. What’s yours_?

Castiel froze. Dean, Dean wasn’t a female name. At all. Did- did that mean that his soulmate was a dude? I mean, he wasn’t really expecting one, even though he always had preferred guys to girls. But still. He thought that his heart was just waiting for the perfect girl, his soulmate. Well, apparently that was not the case.

Crap.

_Castiel_ , he supplied, praying and hoping that Dean wouldn’t freak out. Everyone he knew was crazy homophobic, and crap his soulmate might be too, and-

_Hey, isn’t that a guy’s name?_

Crapohcrapohcrap.

_Yeah…_  Castiel replied, and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at his arm. He didn’t want to see the slurs that would trace up his arms, the rejection he would get

However, curiosity got the best of him, and he took a peek at the new black writing on his arm.

_Huh. Never thought I’d be gay._

And then…

_Maybe I’m bi? I dunno._

He hadn’t freaked out, he hadn’t panicked, he hadn’t rejected him – this boy was perfect.

_Maybe. Maybe that’s it. Just… Dean? Thanks for not freaking out. You’re the best._

_Why would I freak out? If this soulmate thing is really meant to be, that means that whoever is writing to me on my arm is my one and only. My true love. So I say fuck gender and homophobia. If you are truly my soulmate, Castiel, then no questions asked. No freak outs. You’re my soulmate. That’s it, that’s all that it will ever need to be. So don’t worry about it._

Castiel nearly freaking sighed with delight. He was turning into a goddamn teenage girl.

_Oh my god, I don’t know what to say._

_Thank you? You’re awesome, Dean? I love you? ;)_  Dean offered, clearly teasing.

_All of those and more._

Castiel had spent the night writing to Dean, with his roommate who-know-where. And that was just the start of everything perfect.

The two soulmates chatted constantly from then on, learning more and more about each other. Dean still drew beautiful art into Castiel’s skin, causing envy among his fellow classmates that he got something so utterly gorgeous from his soulmate. But it wasn’t until 3 months after he graduated from college that he met his “true love”.

Dean was graduated for a little more than a year now, due to him being a year older than Castiel. He had apparently gone to a school in New York for art but had moved to Lebanon, Kansas, and was currently living in a giant house with his brother and an old family friend that was apparently the father figure in his life, due to his real father being a deadbeat drunk. Castiel was  _not_  a fan of John Winchester from the stories that he had heard.

Now, Castiel  _loved_  writing. That’s what he wished to do with the rest of his life – write! He even had a book published – a story about two forbidden lovers, both married to someone that they did not feel any passion for, so they would stay up at nights and write love letters to each other, only to hastily wash them off before morning came due to their forced partner.

The best part of his work was that he could live wherever he wanted. As long as he kept writing, it didn’t matter to anyone where he lived. So, determined to finally meet Dean, Castiel packed up his bags and moved to Lebanon, Kansas.

He stayed in an apartment the first few months, working on a sequel to his first novel and desperately trying to find Dean. It didn’t help that he barely knew what the man looked like – 6 feet, light brown hair, freckles, and green eyes. That was it. That’s all he knew.

Sure, it _would_  be better to ask Dean for his address, but wouldn’t that ruin the surprise? He wanted to find his soulmate, and it had to be by himself. Asking for Dean’s address would be like cheating, almost. So he stuck to the looks and tried to find Dean off of a simple description.

It wasn’t until that fated day in August, when he was at the grocery store, shopping for marshmallow fluff (of all things to shop for, why marshmallow fluff), that he met Dean.

It wasn’t like he was stalking the customers of the store, no, that would be creepy. But earlier that morning, Dean had drawn the mountains all up and down his arm, and so Castiel was looking for 6 foot, brown-haired, green-eyed men that had mountains on their left arm (Dean was right-handed).

So, he was looking in the baking section of the grocery store, (Tom Thumb, was it?) shopping for marshmallow fluff for reasons only god knows, when he heard two men bickering about “Dean, this is the baking aisle. You aren’t going to find any pie here.”

At the name “Dean” Castiel whipped his head around, searching for the sources of the argument. He abruptly jerked the cart in the direction of the voices, causing an agonizing screech against the grey floor, making everyone in that aisle turn to face him. Everyone, including, the two men that were arguing.

One was freaking huge – at least 6’3, with light brown hair to his shoulders. Nope. That couldn’t be Dean. He wasn’t that tall. But the other one – the other one looked about 6 feet. With light brown hair. And green eyes if you squinted. They both wore flannel, like lumberjacks, but Castiel remembered that Dean had once said that he liked flannel.

Castiel attempted to casually glance over at the shorter man’s left arm, and holy lord up in heaven he had the freaking mountains HE HAD THE FREAKING MOUNTAINS.

He tried to calm himself down but heck, there was so much excitement coursing through his veins that he could barely breathe right. This was it,  _this was it_. He was going to meet his freaking soulmate.

Castiel stumbled over in the direction of the two men, his cart abandoned behind him.

“It’s- I’m-“ He gasped for breath, nearly hyperventilating. The taller sent a questioning gaze to Dean, who returned an equally confused glance. “Wait…” Dean’s eyes traveled to Castiel’s left arm.

“No way.” He whispered in awe. “No fucking way.”

“I’m Castiel.” He finally managed out, his eyes filling with tears because holy crap, it was Dean, it was really Dean. “Sam- Sam, this is-“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting that…” Sam looked at the two in disbelief. “This is my fucking soulmate!” Dean almost laughed out, his voice breathless with joy.

“Oh my god.” Castiel uttered, his grin stretching across his face. “Oh my god!”

Dean stepped forward and took the shorter man in his arms, hugging him tightly. “This is real, right? Tell me this isn’t just some freaky dream that I’m going to wake up from and you’ll be gone.” He asked, his voice desperate. “No, no this isn’t a dream, I’m real, I’m really real.” Castiel assured, inhaling Dean’s scent – he smelled like acrylic paint, pine, and cinnamon. He loved cinnamon.

“Sammy, I just met my fucking soulmate!” Dean cried out in joy. “I can see that!” Sam returned in the same tone, and the two soulmates just stood, hugging awkwardly in the baking aisle of the grocery store.

And that was how they met.

The first few months that they spent together, they were inseparable. They were in the “honeymoon” stage of love, where the person they are in love with is absolutely perfect in everything they do and nobody can tell them otherwise. Eventually, Castiel just moved into the mansion with Dean, Sam, and Bobby, to save the hassle of him driving every day.

He eventually met John Winchester, who had screamed some crap about them going to hell before he passed out in a puddle of his own sick. On their doorstep. It was disgusting, and Castiel never wanted to think of that meeting ever again.

Now, once he was fully moved in, then came the idea of movie nights. Dean was determined to introduce Castiel- or “Cas”, as he liked to call him, to Star Wars, Lord of The Rings, and all other fantasy/sci-fi movies, so every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, they would have movie nights.

It never mattered to Cas what movie that they were watching. If he was curled up on the grey couch that was right in front of the TV with Dean, and they were sharing a blanket or doing some cute coupley things, then everything was utterly perfect for Cas. Dean always got very into the movie, and would end up quoting lines or shouting at the characters on the TV, with Cas just snuggled up close to him, enveloped in the smell of his paints and the pine and the cinnamon.

And as he sat there one night, Dean intently watching Doctor Who (“What? The British accents are sexy!”) and Castiel absentmindedly tracing the constellations up his arm, he thought to himself about how blissfully happy he was, and how much he loved his soulmate’s art. I mean, he couldn’t draw to save his life, but Dean, Dean made the most exquisite drawings he had ever seen, and dear god, was he talented.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE FULL CIRCLES DON'T YOU


End file.
